Between the Surgeries – Learning to Wait

The recovery after the October surgery was long and emotionally exhausting. Cody wanted to move. He wanted to play with his son, get back on his feet—literally. But his body needed time, and time isn’t something you can fast forward.

We were holding on to hope that December would bring the final surgery—the one that would mark the beginning of the end of this long journey. The doctors had mentioned it might be possible, and we clung to that possibility. We prayed, we stayed optimistic, we tried to plan ahead. But when December came and they told us Cody still wasn’t healed enough, it hit hard. We were devastated.

It wasn’t just the disappointment of more waiting—it was everything that came with it. Emotionally, we were worn down. Financially, we knew the clock was ticking toward a new year and a new insurance max out-of-pocket for Cody. The thought of starting over with expenses we’d already stretched ourselves to cover was overwhelming. But still, we reminded ourselves that healing can’t be rushed—and God’s timing is never wrong, even when it’s hard to understand.

I clung to Lamentations 3:22-23: “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed... His compassions never fail. They are new every morning.” I tried to make each morning feel like a fresh invitation to keep believing, to trust that God was still working—even when we couldn’t see the progress yet.

During this time, I found myself trying to lean deeper into God’s Word. I started spending more intentional time reading scripture and praying, not just for Cody’s healing but for peace in my own heart. It became part of my routine—nightly reading in the bath with a Bible open, even if I only made it through a few verses. That time helped me hold on to hope.

We also started having more open conversations about Jesus and God with Cody’s son. It was hard for him to understand why his dad wasn’t "fun" this winter—why he couldn’t roughhouse, play outside, or even tuck him in like before. Those conversations weren’t always easy, but they were real. And they helped plant seeds of faith in his young heart, even in the middle of all the confusion.

Cody handled everything like a champ. He was frustrated, of course—anyone would be. But he stayed kind. He stayed funny. He never let the weight of his situation steal the light from our home. Watching him love our family through his own pain reminded me exactly why I married him.

With all the love in the world,

Chelsea